Reaper's Hope
by Bleach-ed-Na-tsu
Summary: Darkness is a plain of existence devoid of light and hope. Light is a plain of existence where the living find solace and hope. He was rather proud of being the darkness, but he soon found the light that might destroy him...that light didn't destroy darkness...it made it even darker. Semi- AU. Adult!R27. T –dark and swearing. Full Sum inside A/N.


**Hey there readers!  
Now! Before you pull out the pitch-forks and burn your torches I'd like to say something important! I am on temp/semi-haitus. Check out my profile- there is an explanation and a poll to see which fic (if any) you would like me to concentrate on during this Hiatus. I cannot promise anything, how long I'll be, or when I'll get back into writing. So please, **_**please**_**, forgive this awful authoress and read the A/N at the bottom of the page.**

* * *

**Also! Check out the Secret Santa being hosted by Mockingjay Rose on my profile, I'm entering, so who knows, maybe I'll end up being your Secret Santa" **

* * *

_Summary__: Darkness is a plain of existence devoid of light and hope. Light is a plain of existence where the living thrive and find solace and hope. Often, the light is remembered, and the darkness feared, one will always outshine or swallow the other despite the fact that they are always balanced. He was rather proud of being the darkness, but he soon found the light that would destroy him, a light that he coveted and despised. Though that light was a threat to him and his existence, that light didn't destroy darkness, but instead made it even darker. Semi- AU. Adult!R27. T because it does touch upon darker elements and swearing._

* * *

Reaper's Hope.

If darkness is that plain of existence where light hath no power and the terrors of the mind and body may play and frolic in the grime and turmoil of mankind, then he could reassuring say, in that old and tired accepting tone of one who had seen too much at a young and fragile age and had, over the course a short life, continued to see equally and extensively too much more, that he was most certainly a man of darkness.

He killed for a living. His hands were stained in life-gold dyed red, his soul was perforated by stakes and cusses and threats on his life. His eyes saw nothing but grim fate and the artistic positions that the dead tended to fall into. His ears, so sharp and tuned heard lullabies of screams as guns blasted a rhythmic, soothing bass. He enjoyed sitting in dark room, shielded by the shadows, and concealed within the arms of death and despair. His name changed, and never stayed the same for long.

He was darkness, and was quite proud of that. He lived on a plain of existence on which no one could rightly say they were able to stand without drowning. He thrived on being unseen and his mouth salivated at the thought of the torture his bleak, threatening existence bestowed upon the lives of the victims he was contracted to end.

Nono had known him since he completed his first contract; in fact it was with Nono that his first contract kill was completed. Reborn was young and fairly naive at the time. As naive as a twelve-year-old mercenary could be, of course. Since then, while keeping that pretense of being completely free-lance and connected to no famiglia, Reborn always felt that sense of duty and- though his dark heart loathed to admit it- home within the Vongola. If Nono had a job for him Reborn took it without a second glance and with a distained air of annoyance at yet _another_ favour due. Reborn never owed favours, but whenever his personal number rang with Nono's identification some _long forgotten_ debt owed would crop up and lead him to his _obligation_ to help Nono, Timotei, out with whatever it was the aging man needed the greatest darkness' assistance with.

It was Nono that put Reborn in contact with the Chivarone and who lead him to another calling that still thrived on the darkness, but allowed his cold, translucent pallor the brief euphoria of sunlight. He became the _**tutor**_ to a clumsy, ignorant, and arrogant youth in line to inherit one of Vongola's most trusted allies. Reborn, being so _thorough_ in his job saw fit that the boy understand and take his calling upon his young shoulders. Reborn did not do jobs half-assed. He was _not_ worried that one of Vongola's allies was being left in a vulnerable position. Hewas _not_ worried about a child given a responsibility too heavy too early. He was decidedly _not_ terrifiedthat if he did the job wrong it would bring an end to the only place in the world he could say with some solidity he had a home. No, he was simply completing his job.

The boy was arrogant, crying and whining in the face of darkness. It wasn't a smart move, and for only a few months the boy did not learn his lesson and his training was tenfold to what it needed to be. His bruises were worse; his grazes drew more blood than they needed. But it did its job and the boy respected the man born and raised in the bleak, bloodied world that snivelling prince-babes were a part of but shielded from in the Mafia's own twisted, misunderstood way. It was a double lesson in the end, Reborn taught the boy to not only respect the true men of the Mafia, but be able to respect himself in the same way. One needs to respect oneself before giving respect to another.

He may not be able to admit it in word and action, but being a tutor had more to say than a good pay, accommodation, and warmth not really found in his usual line of work. Being a tutor let flourish and roar all kinds of emotion and resolves that Reborn found himself despising, but also invigorated by. He had never been so protective and vindictive over a creature of blood and life. He never felt such pride in a job that ended with less blood than it began with.

The boy was still clumsy, even after years of the expert tutelage, but he was making a name for himself as the greatest boss the Chivarone has seen. It was all down to the blackest Hitman, and that kind of pride really could feel no equal.

After leaving the boy when he was given his black throne and rusted crown, Reborn found himself free-lance again. Nono would call up occasionally, his calls and asks becoming something of regularity for many years. He would train on his own, but would not take up another tutoring job. That was a rite left by Reborn onto to Nono for when and if the need arises again.

Just when he thought that the darkness was fading from the shoulders of his suit, when he thought that every blood strain was finally blotted out of his crisp, white shirt and when he was sure he could rightly say what exactly the colour of the skin of his hands were he would be thrust back into the darkness and drowned and bathed and bestowed more grime and guts of snivelling men who forgot their place or who threatened something far bigger and more dangerous than themselves. It was routine, and it was something of a comfort, even if spilt blood did little in the way of warmth.

Reborn grew used to the weight and the feeling of blood under his nails and shadows clinging to his shoulders like the monkey that clung to your back because of stupid addiction and inconsolable cravings. He was used to it and it made up a very real, very tangible part of himself.

Then another phone call came. The caller ID was ingrained in Reborn's brain, it was a part of him, duty-bound to the man who had acted as much as a tutor as he did a family to Reborn when he was young and still new to the world of blood and brimstone. So when he answered the phone, expecting another hit and the man's tires haggard voice greeted him instead, something within Reborn sparked and roared back into life. The protective instinct a tutor has over his ward.

"Reborn, I need to call in yet another favour of you my dear friend."

Reborn was silent for a moment, feeling something unexpected in his gut clench excitedly when the man spoke those words. Reborn was a man who believed skills were what kept you alive, in his line of work it was often the belief that fate and luck held no sway in the greater picture of things. Most often this was the case because in Reborn's line of work, one did not want to believe that for all their training and all their struggles it would only take a youngster's luck, or a sudden and unexpected quick draw to kill them after years of harsh regimented training and a skill that knew no competition. But even with this belief, Reborn had been saved by his intuition more than once. Seeing that his gut clenched in excited prospects- and seeing as Nono was the one calling and Reborn _did not_ like the tone the man used- he was quick to accept the man's offer.

"Thank you, old friend." He paused, thinking over his words? Reborn thought as much. "I need you to train my new heir."

Now, Reborn wasn't one to go out of his way to keep up to date with the current affairs of the Mafia world- where Vongola wasn't concerned anyway- but he had been unaware of a new heir even being announced. It still burned a small place in his chest to think that _three_ of his good friends' sons had been shot down and killed.

"I wasn't aware you had chosen a new heir, Timotei."

There was a brief, tired burst of laughter on the other end of the receiver, but it wasn't the happy, warm laughter that Reborn was used to from the old don. This sound was exhausted, and gaunt, it was the laugh of a dying man who knew his time was up and who was weighed with the guilt of his final, necessary decision. The laugh of a guilty man duty-bound to too many in a very strong, very precious way who could not make a final decision that would please them all. It sounded like the laugh of a crying man.

"He is not one I wanted to bring into this world, Reborn, he is an innocent, but he is the last one."

"The last what, Timotei?"

"He is Giotto's final heir."

That settled it for Reborn of course. He knew of Giotto's decision to leave the mafia at an age younger than the rest, and he knew of the man's amazing ability and charisma. Any heir of Giotto's was truly an heir to watch. It made his gut clench happily to think that _he_ would be the one to raise and nurture such an heir.

He didn't take into account, or even realise what Nono meant by 'innocent' at the time.

He accepted the job quickly, and plans were made for his arrival at the Sawada house not two weeks later. It was just before the boy's seventeenth birthday- just a few years late of the age he arrived in Dino's life.

His flight was not unsettling or unusual. It was a long, arduous flight with little to do and even less to see, but he had taken longer flights in his life. His darkness and his job spanned the globe, a hit here, a group interrogation there. It was all small matter to Reborn. He simply stalked and resided where the darkness was thickest. He felt at home with the darkness and slept peacefully in blankets of blood.

Soon enough he arrived at the Sawada household, it was humble and small. Reborn was at first surprised that such a precious heir was subjected to such a _common_ abode, but he was not a man to question the ways of Nono. Maybe it was for the heir's protection, if he was hunted by those of a greater level of sin than average Mafioso then shielding the newest, youngest heir was obviously quite a smart idea; hiding him in plain, inconspicuous sight and even better one.

A young brunette answered the door. She had large eyes, and a soft complexion. Her stance was loose and her body language calm. She exuded the airs of a mother.

"Mrs. Sawada?" Reborn asks cautiously, because this wasn't _at all_ what he expected. He was expecting a guard, not a woman dressed in a frilly apron who exuded this ditsy-but-aware air of innocence and purity. "My name is Reborn, I was sent here to tutor your son." His tone almost questioned his duty, but he did well to hide his unease from the woman.

She brightened then; it was as if some brilliant light was switched on around her. It engulfed and stunned Reborn for but a mere moment before the backlash of darkness was enough to cloak him once again.

"Oh! You must be the one Iemitsu was telling me about." Just the mention of that imbecile's name sent Reborn on edge. "Please, come in, Tsu-kun is just in the living room."

Reborn knew of Iemitsu more through word-of-mouth than by actually interaction. He tended to be away on missions, or was strategically avoiding the buffoon whenever the blonde was near Nono's office. Reborn knew well enough that the man was strong, and that behind his layer of idiocy and over-exaggeration there was an incredibly apt leader. But the man was no father, and thought Reborn couldn't remember even his own father, he was of the opinion that a family came before a famiglia. Nono had done well enough to teach Reborn that lesson early on in his career.

Reborn nodded to the woman, tipping his fedora as she blushed and skipped to the kitchen cooing about handsome men and lucky children. He smiled a little at the woman's antics, because she was just so...well he didn't quite have a word to adequately describe her.

Inside of the little house was as humble as it was outside, and though Reborn assumed that Iemitsu would not leave his home unprotected he could feel no traps, no cameras and no weapons within the relatively small premises. It made Reborn's chest clench uncomfortably; he was starting to doubt Nono's words. Because this wasn't the home of a criminal syndicate heir, it was the home of a civilian innocent.

With his hands in his pockets and his eyes shadowed by a shadow a shade darker than his own darkness, Reborn rounded the corner to see a beautiful, pure, unsettling sight.

Sitting on one of the couches that rested in a loose three sided square, a boy with fine, unruly hair was reading. His body was thin and gangly, little muscle rested on the arms and chest, and it was obvious that the boy was hitting the height of his growth. He was reading a rather large tome that looked to be in a different language. The boy himself seemed rather unassuming, he seemed rather _unathletic_, and his aura seemed clean and pure.

It hit Reborn like a tonne of bricks and a slash across the chest.

This boy was not an heir, he was a child. Something inside Reborn roared in outrage. He was to train a Mafia heir, not an innocent child. He was a monster, he was darkness, but he was not a man to shatter something innocent that was _supposed_ to be protected. He was righteous in his darkness.

Of course, it was then that the child looked up, alerted somehow by Reborn's silent entrance.

His eyes were the warmest brown Reborn had ever seen, but they were not just brown. The colour seemed unearthly, the shades, while warm and enticing were littered and scored with a gold so cold and set it was as if the teen's irises were made of the precious metal itself, and that the brown was merely superficial surface dust. His face was not so rounded as Reborn assumed, angles were making themselves known beneath the years of baby-fat, the boy looked to smile often, but looked to frown equally as much- if not more often. There was a pain within the boy's eyes, his body, and the lines of wounds and bruises that littered his bare skin. It was a breath-taking, painful sight to see.

For a moment they just stared each other out, pure innocence dancing with a curious darkness. But the boy smiled, so beautifully and kindly that Reborn was set on edge and felt like everything tying him to the earth shifted. It was unsettling to say the least.  
"You must be the tutor Kaa-san was telling me about." His voice was not so high as to be mistaken as feminine, but it was also not deep enough to be in manhood either. It was a sweet tone with a deeper timbre than a woman's.

"I'm Reborn; do you have any idea what you are in for?"

The boy blinked owlishly. It seemed that no, the boy had no idea what Reborn was there for, why the man had a gun suddenly pointed at his head, and why his eyes were ever so lonely and dangerous. "I can't say, Reborn, that I do."

* * *

If darkness is Reborn, then the child he was sent to tutor was light.

Light was a plain of existence completely independent of darkness. Reborn knew this; Reborn was aware of it before he was aware of what Darkness was. Light was that plain of existence where the living thrived and found solace. It was something that engulfed and morphed everything, it cuddled and coddled the living and the inanimate, giving rise to something beautiful and blinding all at once. The child who knew no wrong and saw no evil was light. He was beautiful, untainted and wise in that way that one of innocence was clean. He was ignorant, and he was lost, but he was ever so found and ever so perfect in the light.

Reborn didn't want to touch him. But Reborn wanted him just as desperately.

Reborn's training did not rest to start. It was tough, dangerous, and the boy took it all in a scared- _no, terrified_- kind of grace. The boy was battered, bruised, and cried every evening when his injuries out numbered his improvements. It wasn't a pretty sight, but the boy was already better than Dino was at this point in training.

The boy already had a strange kind of self-respect, though was cynical and lacked any self-confidence. But more importantly he had a life-saving, intrinsic respect for Reborn and the strange, shape-shifting gun he brandished like an extension of his limbs.

Tsunayoshi had an even deeper respect for the shaded, grim, and disgusting darkness that followed Reborn and his duty.

It didn't take long for the boy to bring 'guardians' to his side. Enemies and allies alike flocked to him. He had only to smile that promise- I will protect, accept, and respect you- only accept everything they were or did, and nod and they were his. But he did not use them, no, they were all _precious_ and Reborn did not understand how this boy- this _**saint**_- could have been chosen and related to something as disgusting and brutal as the Mafia. How he could do it all, protect it all, and not break under the pressure of expectation and duty was lost to Reborn so bathed in darkness.

* * *

Six months, that was all it took to drive Reborn _**mad**_.

Tsuna littered and bestowed upon Reborn things he never imagined he'd ever get again. Things that Reborn had forgotten were precious, important and warming. Nono could never give him even half of what Tsuna gave him even with all his money and recourses. Smiles filled with innocence and purity, eyes that held a stead-fast strength and a resolve that far out-burned even the orange flames that Nono created. The boy held some kind of wicked power over Reborn, he could silence Reborn- his worries, his arguments, his smirks, even his deepest, darkest, and unthinkable_ fears_- with a single look from golden-brown so beautiful it was unmistakable and indescribable all at the same time.

Reborn could take it no longer. The boy said nothing, did nothing, and only achieved better and brighter things. Oh, he spoke out against Reborn's actions, he whined and complained- much like the prince-babe Dino years before him- but the words held no bite and no accusation. Tsuna took the words; he took the taunts and the beatings with a saint-like grace that irritated Reborn to no ends! At the same time, Reborn felt saved, he felt vindicated and free. He wanted more, he c_r__**a**_v_**e**__d_ more. He wanted the boy in every single way he could have him. He wanted to c_**l**_**a**_i__**m**_ the boy in every single way possible. He wanted that purity to himself. It was his! He wouldn't let the children that clung to the light get any closer; he wouldn't let that light grow brighter. For with every new addition to his student's fold , Tsuna grew stronger and brighter and purer and simply more breathtaking. Reborn couldn't take it. He couldn't understand; he wanted it even if he had to taint and break it to get it.

Slamming the boy against the wall, pinning the slim, pale wrists high above his head of delicate, soft hair, Reborn made sure his grip was tight enough to bruise and stared down into those burning golden-brown eyes with accusation and possessiveness. He let his darkness flick out in uncontrolled, painful spikes, hoping to get a reaction, hoping to hurt and taint the light that taunted and seduced him. It was all he understood, all he knew to understand what was happening to him.

"How do you do it?" his tone was strong and demanding, his aura thick and heavy. But his words did not cut as he wished; they were light, full of protectiveness and confusion. He sounded weak. "How do you do this to me?!"

Tsuna merely looked stunned for a moment, the large, soft eyes widening and flickering momentarily burnt-gold before dimming back to the crisp, golden-brown that Reborn craved. The boy moved, shifting his position enough to make Reborn follow instinctively, and soon enough his once pinned- bruised- wrists were hooked over Reborn's head ensuring the darkness, the bloodied, and the tainted could not move away. Reborn wouldn't look away even if he had the choice.

"I am doing nothing to you Reborn." Tsuna's tone was radiant and full of overwhelming love and sanctuary. Even as he whispered innocent, gentle words he nuzzled Reborn's jaw with gentle lips. His exposed neck, pale and perfect taunted and teased Reborn, almost, _almost_ breaking what little self-control he had left within his dirty being. "I am just showing you that you are _mine_."

The words were coy, and to anyone's ears alone would be far from innocent. But the tone, the way Tsuna smiled softly, with an assurance that came from knowing nothing of the blood and the guts and the souls that clung like an expensive perfume to Reborn's very core made the words holy and true. Reborn found himself falling into the words.

"Do you even realise what kind of misfortune and pain will befall the light if he touches the darkness?"

From the look of pure, untainted emotion in Tsuna's eyes he did. The light knew what he was doing. The light was ever assured, ever there. He accepted all colours and made them work, made them _clean;_ he was a saint, he accepted everything. He was an all-encompassing light.

_If darkness is that plain of existence where light hath no power and the terrors of the mind and body may play and frolic in the grime and turmoil of mankind, then light is that plain of existence upon which darkness equally has no hold, and hope and joy and happiness could wash and wrap those who lived and thrived upon it in a collective, comforting embrace of protection; if these two cases were both true, then he could reassuring say, in that old and tired accepting tone of one who had seen too much at a young and fragile age and had, over the course a short life, continued to see equally and extensively too much more, that Tsuna was undoubtedly, and incredibly beautifully the light._

Heated lips crashed upon purity, shattering away the illusion of innocence. Moans and sinful gasps echoed in a house empty of all but a battling, writhing Light and a controlling, desperate Darkness. Reborn lifted Tsuna up along the wall, seating Tsuna so that his lean, pale legs wrapped around Reborn's slight waist he crushed Tsuna in a possessive, dangerously rough display of possession. The sweet sounds of arousal and of pain were music to Reborn's ears, the tightness of the arms still wrapped around his neck, and the pain of lean fingers digging almost, no, certainly _desperately_ into his shoulder was a kind of euphoria Reborn had never experienced before with anyone.

Moving his mouth alone the sharp-but-rounded jaw of the teen he tore away the dress shirt Tsuna wore caring little for the buttons that flew across the hallway. The collar gone, a lean, pale neck and pearly collar bones were left exposed. The pale skin, white and clean of mark and touch sent possessive, sadistic shivers of pleasure straight to Reborn's core. Reborn let his darkness and death descend on Tsuna's neck, his accessories of sin and taint leaving dark bruises and teeth marks to clutter Tsuna's neck and collar bone. Each time Reborn's sharp teeth grazed virgin skin Tsuna's moans and gasps of battling pain and pleasure drove Reborn almost mad.

If Reborn was every cuss that slashed him, and ever accusation thrown like a dart, then Reborn was undoubtedly the darkness, and for the first time it hurt him to be so dark and filthy, because it hurt to be near one so clean.

While Reborn was lost in the pleasure of the boy calling his name out in ecstasy and lost behind the confusion and enjoyment of his own voice calling out in tender love that of another, part of him writhed in turmoil because he was tainting purity.

His hands were bathed and gloved in souls and lives of others. Gunpowder was seared into his pores and he bled black from the taint and blood of others. He exuded an air of death, and darkness cloaked his soul with possessive, cackling oppression. Yet, as he kissed the tender skin of a virgin chest, as he ran his fingers through untamed, soft hair, and as bright, innocent eyes bore into his with a love and acceptance he found himself unable to even wish for, Reborn found himself happy and contented and craving more.

"I love you Reborn; my dark, beautiful night."

The words were soft, spoken as if a whisper shouted on the winds. Tears, crystal against the skin lit by moonlight cascaded unhindered off of charcoal lashes that framed the golden-brown eyes of his light, and Reborn lent in to kiss them away with his thin, pale lips. They tasted of salt but were sweet to a tongue unused to anything but the strong, bitter bite of anguish.

"I love you too Tsuna, more than myself." He ran kisses along Tsuna's chest, working his way slowly towards the teen's lips. His lips and tongue traced each tainting bruise that was left during the elation of touches, and Reborn purred as Tsuna shivered and arched into the attention. "You are my light; my beautiful and only sky."

Reborn thought that light was independent of darkness, and that the darkness' only true enemy was the light. Tsuna showed him a whole new world of understanding and connection. Tsuna was that plain of existence of purity and hope.

Light was a bright mix of seven colours, all blending, mixing and caressing each other until they become something beautifully pure and blinding. Tsuna was all the colours and naturally drew more brilliant, tainted, dark, and innocent colours towards him; making him brighter, purer and altogether unattainable to someone like Reborn. Reborn was tainted, bleak and a monster born from the terrors and sin of man and beast. He was the torturer from the nightmares of the young, and he thrived and drunk that fear, he was intoxicated with the smell, the taste, and savoured the flavour in the air when he left yet another devastated and broken. Reborn was the king of beasts that reined in the darkness.

Tsuna showed him that the light needed him. In turn, that he also needed the light.

Tsuna showed, through gentle touches, soft lips and kind, soothing strokes of sinfully pure and devastatingly dirty hands that light is only as bright as its darkest shadow. A shadow is made by light, it cannot live, it cannot fester and darken and taint without some kind of light to shield it and draw away attention. Darkness and light go hand in hand, they are not independent of each other, can never be independent of each other.

A light will always feel broken and plain when its darkness is not at its side, trying to taint and covet and purge the light of its innocence. Darkness will feel exposed and clean without some kind of light to tempt it away from sin, to tempt it towards its purity. It is a truth that neither can truly survive nor _live_ without the other. It just takes a meeting and consummation for light and darkness to realise this.

Smirking that dark, sensual lift and pressing his thinned lips onto the sleeping skin of his bright and pure lover Reborn worried, and Reborn lusted. He was fit to taint his light, so drawn in he already coveted what should never have been his, and he received those same coveting feelings from the light, and it was laughable how _different_ those feelings felt coming from someone pure.

If he was darkness, Tsuna was light. As they lay together, skin touching where skin was bare, and fingers and legs intertwined where limbs and fingers allowed it, Reborn found that his accessories of sin and taint suited Tsuna's pure light very well.

* * *

**I want to say I AM SO SORRY. You all are wonderful, marvellous, amazing people. Your reviews are what kept me sane during a very difficult time for me. We have received bad news in my family and that is what had warranted my step-back from FanFiction- but not a permanent one!  
I am reviewing and reassessing three/four of my main fics as follows:**

**E'la Nostra Ora Incisa Sull'anello**

**Violet Insanity and Chocolate Love**

**To the Untrained Eye**

**Facing Demons, Facing You**

**Hopefully these 'Revisions' will mean a total overhaul and constant, regular updated. Knots may also go through revision, but seeing as its a fairly new fic that's unlikely. Hopefully that will also end up in the update scheme. **

* * *

**Again, I ask you please be patient, I never intended to this to become so difficult, but seeing as there have been unforeseen circumstances, I hope you understand.**

**Thank you, I love you all,**

**Bleach-ed-Na-tsu :3**


End file.
